


another hero, another mindless crime

by trashgutz



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Crying, Grief/Mourning, HIV/AIDS, HIV/AIDS Crisis, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Death, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Married Couple, Men Crying, Mentioned Freddie Mercury, is this a whump?? what’s a whump?? i don’t know anymore help, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:20:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26526595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashgutz/pseuds/trashgutz
Summary: whatever happens, i’ll leave it all to chanceanother heartache, another failed romance, on and ondoes anybody know what we are living for?- "the show must go on" by queen
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 9





	another hero, another mindless crime

it was a slow day at the bookshop. aziraphale had just given an adorable couple the directions to his favorite tea place (they had been on a date, which made aziraphale smile after warning them to take cover soon on the account of it raining) and was tutting around the shop when he felt something shift in the air.

it wouldn't be noticeable to any normal person, no, but since aziraphale was an angel, he could feel the different aura that filled his shop. he shivered, suddenly getting a case of the goosebumps, when he heard the door open and close gently, the small bell signifying the door being opened suddenly booming in the silence. he heard a _fwip_ , like paper being turned over, and that's when the aura clicked with him.

it was _grief_.

grief so strong, so potent, so overwhelming aziraphale felt the urge to sit down suddenly. the grief, the sadness, the overall feeling of hurt clung to his clothes, his skin, seemed to make the air denser. he walked back to the front of the shop to see what had brought this feeling of despair into his shop when he saw his husband standing at the door. his back was towards aziraphale, and he seemed to be holding onto the sign.

 _ah_ , aziraphale thought absentmindedly. _he's the one who turned the sign._

his husband looked, for lack of a better term, like shit. crowley wore a traditional black suit with a white shirt and black skinny tie, his oxfords shiny. the shoulders of the jacket and his auburn hair were sparkled with rain droplets, and with his shoulders drawn up to his ears, he looked downright miserable. when he turned around and his eyes landed on aziraphale, crowley blinked. he wasn't wearing his glasses, and his eyes shone with unshed tears.

"hey there, angel," he said, but his façade wasn't hiding much of anything.

"crowley..." aziraphale murmured. "what's going on?"

crowley began to cry softly, tears streaming down his face, making aziraphale immediately worried for his husband. "remember the musician friend i told you about?" his voice cracked midsentence, the tears began to become more aggressive, his body shaking. "he's—"

when he fell to his knees, aziraphale gasped and rushed to his husband. "oh, dear..." he wrapped his arms around crowley and holds him tight, letting the demon sob into his shoulder. the grip crowley had on his sleeves was vice like, but aziraphale couldn't care about that right now. as his husband cried out in pain, of emotions and pain and _hurt_ , aziraphale just held him.

he held his husband as the rain poured onto the shop and the whole of the world cried with crowley. 

november 24, 1991. the day, some say, music died.

to crowley, the only one who died was his friend.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are always appreciated.  
> remember kids:  
> stay in drugs,  
> eat your school,  
> and dont do vegetables.


End file.
